


Hard Rain, Hard Times

by nekocrouton



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekocrouton/pseuds/nekocrouton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little something angsty that I wrote for my dear friend over on Tumblr.  I don't normally write angst and it's probably not nearly as angsty as some of the stuff that other authors can do, but it was an attempt.</p><p>Nellis if you squint.  Once again, it has major character death and suicide.  Basically, shit's gone down and it's the end of the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Rain, Hard Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crowvo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowvo/gifts).



Nick grunted as he maneuvered Ellis’ damp, near-lifeless body onto a small twin bed. He didn’t care that there were questionable bloodstains on the bed sheets underneath, _all_ he was concerned with at the moment was his partner’s current state.

The rain had unexpectedly come down hard and fast, and somehow he and Ellis had gotten separated from Coach and Rochelle in the sugar mill. They made it back into the small town, hoping to reunite with the other half of their team at the fast food restaurant, but as they were making their way down an alleyway, Nick _swore_ that he thought Ellis was right behind him. But until the pouring rain echoing through his ears cleared up, he didn’t realize that a Charger had snagged the mechanic at some point. When the downpour finally subsided, the sickening thuds that he then heard instead alerted Nick to his partner’s plight, and by the time he had rescued Ellis from the grip of the beastly infected, the mechanic was barely conscious.

Nick moved as fast as he could to get Ellis to safety, despite his waterlogged clothes trying to hold him back with every move he made. It took him every bit of strength in his body to haul the younger man into a tiny house that had seen better days. He knew that they weren’t _safe_ there, but it was better than staying exposed to the elements _and_ the infected.

He looked down at the battered, beaten mechanic, noticing a small trail of blood that was slowly oozing out of the corner of Ellis’ mouth. “How are you holding up, sport?” Nick asked as he used a corner of his sleeve to gently wipe the red liquid away. The suit was fucked anyway with all of the blood and zombie guts that it had been subjected to thus far; adding another bloodstain to it didn’t really matter at this point.

Ellis _barely_ registered that someone was talking to him, his half-lidded eyes squinting as he tried to focus in on the owner of the voice. “N-Nick?” He started to cough after his attempt to speak, and he held a hand up to his mouth as his lungs made a horrifying wheezing sound with each forced exhale of air.

Nick felt nauseous at hearing the noise, and although he didn’t want to alarm the Southerner, he also knew that he couldn’t candy-coat the situation either. He sat down on the bed next to Ellis and put a hand on the mechanic’s shoulder. “You look like death warmed over, kiddo,” he said truthfully while giving a halfhearted smile. “Do you want some pills or something? It might help with the pain.” He turned his head away from the other man to avoid eye contact; Nick knew that it would take a hell of a lot _more_ than a bottle of pills to get Ellis even half-functional again. A goddamn _miracle_ was more like it with the state of the world now.

Ellis gave a weak shake of his head. “I’m jus’ real tired man,” he managed to get out quietly.   “If I get some rest, I should be good.”

Nick put a hand up to his mouth and bit at his lip at Ellis’ words, knowing that if the other man fell asleep, it was _very_ unlikely that he would wake back up. He’d seen enough life-threatening injuries in his days that he _knew_ a nap wasn’t what the mechanic needed. He needed a hospital, a surgeon, hell, probably an ICU, but they had none of that nowadays. The guilt that he was feeling, knowing that it was _his_ fault that the kid was in the state he was in, was _almost_ too much for him to bear. “Ellis, I’m _so_ sorry,” he managed to choke out. He tried not to get _too_ emotional, because getting emotional just wasn’t the way he _did_ things, but he couldn’t hide the uneasy shake in his voice. “If I had just looked behind me, I would have been able to save you sooner. I just… Christ.” He leaned over Ellis’ body and moved a hand up to stroke at the kid’s damp, wavy hair on his bare head. The trucker hat that the mechanic was hardly _ever_ without had fallen off somewhere in the struggle to get him back to a safer place. “I’m so _fucking_ sorry.”

Ellis smiled weakly. “I always liked ya, Nick,” he softly admitted while moving a hand up to briefly grasp fingers at the conman’s rain-soaked coat. “You always gave me shit, but I know ya meant well. So… It’s okay. I jus’… I need to sleep.” His voice faded out while his blue eyes slowly fluttered shut, and as his body relaxed, his head lolled over to the side.

“No, don’t fall asleep kiddo!” Nick got out in a panicked tone, moving to shake the mechanic awake. But it was too late. Ellis had already stopped breathing.

“Fuck.” Nick got up from the bed. “ _FUCK!_ ” In a frenzy, he rummaged through the closet and dresser that were in the room, hoping that maybe, just _maybe_ there’d be a defibrillator stashed in there somewhere, but it was no use; he came up empty-handed. “God _damn_ it!” Attempting CPR would be of no use with the extent of Ellis’ injuries, and he gave a frustrated punch to the wall, white plaster raining down with the impact.

He knew that he was thoroughly fucked now. There was no way that he’d be able to make it to the Burger Tank on his own, and there was no guarantee that Rochelle and Coach would even _be there_ to meet him. He was screwed.

Nick sat back down on the bed next to Ellis’ body and he cradled his face in the palms of his hands, his right hand now leaking blood at the knuckles. He may have cracked a bone or two too, but it didn’t matter anymore. If he went back outside, he was dead. If he stayed there, he was dead. No matter what he did, he’d end up dead. It was fucking hopeless.

Just as he was trying to figure out what the _fuck_ to do, Nick heard the distinct growl of a Hunter not far away, likely alerted to his location due to his outburst. “If you think I’m going to let you get me you bastard, you’ve got another thing coming,” he got out lowly as he tugged his Magnum from his holster. Before doing what he intended to do, he took one more glance over at Ellis, who appeared to only be sleeping on the bed. “I kind of liked you too, Ellis,” Nick said with some fondness to his voice, even though he knew that the kid would never hear his words. He took a breath as he held the gun up and opened his mouth to aim it at the base of his skull. His hand shook briefly, but he was determined. All his hope was _gone_ , and he’d be _damned_ if he was going to let the zombies be the ones to take him out. Nick screwed his eyes shut as he squeezed the trigger, and the last thing he heard was the loud bang of a gunshot before his body lifelessly slumped atop of Ellis’ while his blood painted the walls behind him.


End file.
